A Way's Away From Home: A D&D Story
by bluejay95867
Summary: Jay Connors lives a basic life. Basic school, basic home, basic town, basic parents. So how will he react when his life is turned completely upside down? Jay will have to endure various creatures, monsters and normal people trying to kill him in this take on "the Lost Mines of Phandelver".
1. Chapter 1

_Chapter One_ _: The WORST Day of My Life. Well, Second._

Let me make this clear: I am not a nerd. I play soccer, I used to play tackle football, I had a brief spell of hockey, and I take martial arts classes. Sure, I have straight As in all of my classes, and yes, I love reading. And while I do have a few medieval weapons on display in my room, that doesn't make me a nerd…

Alright, so I'm a _bit_ of a nerd. So what? I call it a need to succeed, non contentment with my life, and an overactive imagination.

I'm getting off topic. I'll start by introducing myself. The name is Jay Connors. I know, the most basic name, right? That's one of the main reasons I like reading my books. My life is completely and totally _basic_. I go to a public high school with 900 other people, I live in the small town of Gunterson, Indiana, and both of my parents work as paper salespeople. One of my brothers goes to a public college while the other is a senior at the same high school as me.

Even _I'm_ basic. Brown hair, brown eyes, slightly athletic build, a smattering of freckles, moderately tall; I am the definition of mediocre.

My books allow me to visit another life, one where I'm a vampire seductress or a cryptid hunter. It allows me to not feel so… basic. When I was young, my favorite game was make-believe. Me and my brothers would run around in the backyard, slicing (lightly tapping) each other with giant greatswords (semi-large branches), and slaying dragons (my dog) with our magic (water balloons). I always felt so great after we played, like I had actually just had a huge dose of adrenaline.

Even when my brothers got older and stopped playing with me, I still had that need for excitement. It hasn't ever really stopped. I used to be able to satiate it with writing. I had this binder full of short stories, and even a novel. But when I reached the 8th grade, I stopped having enough time to write stories for fun.

So when I first heard of Dungeons and Dragons, my only thought was, _Why haven't I done this before?_ It was everything I did, but better. Instead of writing about a character making choices, I got to be that character, making my own choices. I got to solve problems and almost die doing it without putting myself at risk.

For the next week, I spent my free time pouring over the Player's Handbook and the Dungeon Master's Guide and every other book I could find a free PDF for (I was quite broke). And after a week's worth of intensive reading and studying, I finally felt ready to join in on a session. At my local library, there was a gathering for D&D players that met every Friday, Saturday and Sunday.

So instead of studying for my Algebra 2 exam, I was rereading the Player's Handbook for the third time.

"Connors, would you mind coming out of whatever other land you're in and pay attention?" my science teacher, Mr. O'Donnell, said annoyedly. My head snapped up, first facing Mr. O'Donnell, and then the board. We were reviewing last night's homework, which I hadn't finished. On the board was one of the questions, which I could tell Mr. O'Donnell wanted me to answer. It was a question about non-metals.

"Sulfur, Selenium, and Phosphorous," I answered. Mr. O'Donnell glanced down at the book in my hands and my otherwise empty desk, and an eyebrow raised.

He shook his head and replied, "Next time do your homework. I don't care if you already know the answers." I quickly nodded my head and opened up my book again. I was cramming for the Algebra 2 exam, which was next period. I knew most of the stuff, but my teacher did say there would be some trigonometry, which we had only talked about a couple of times. I understood it, but I was only about halfway through the explanation when the bell rung.

"Don't forget to finish the periodic table! We're bringing in the chemicals next quarter- and everyone's gone," my science teacher tried to yell out to the bustling classroom.

As I was trying to leave, he waved me over to his desk. I gulped, and walked slowly to the wooden table. I had never been in trouble with a teacher before. I mean, they had told me to stop talking a few times, but I never had to stay after class.

"Jay, I noticed you didn't have your homework completed. That is five days in a row. What's wrong?" As he talked, his teacher exterior dropped, opening up his face for more emotion. His eyes betrayed his worry about my school work, and his mouth was worked into that almost pitiful expression that people get when they think something is happening.

I sighed, and told him, "I'm sorry, sir. I've just been distracted." I expected him to remark about that being a meager excuse. What I did not expect was for him to sigh much heavier than I had and look up pityingly at me.

"I know, I heard. I can't believe they would do that to your dad. But your mother, I can't say she made things better." I was opening my mouth to question about what he had heard, but I faltered.

Who did what to my dad? Is he okay? What did my mom do? I wanted to ask him all of these questions, but instead I just nodded.

"Er, yeah. I've been distracted by that."

"Well, of course. Who wouldn't be distracted by that? I mean, both of your parents without jobs… Well, I'll just wish your family the best. Go on, or you'll miss your next period."


	2. Chapter 2

_Chapter Two_ _: And it Just Gets Worse!_

I was almost too stunned to move, but Mr. O'Donald shooed me away. I took one step, and then another, still processing what I had heard. My parents, fired? The past few weeks, my father had been continuously talking about how he thought the manager was going to give him a promotion. And now fired? That was quite the leap

He had been talking about how good the company had been doing, so it couldn't have been a financial thing. Maybe he did something at work? He had to of. I mean, how unskilled does a person have to be to get fired from selling paper for a lack of performance? That was not my dad. He was as charismatic and persuasive as a person could get. When I was a kid, he once talked me down from a robotic pony to a lollipop once when I was seven.

As I was walking through the hallways, completely distracted, my backpack was suddenly lifted up. At the same time, the backs of my knees were pushed forward. The backpack dropped, and as heavy as it was, and as off-balance, as I was, I fell with it.

After I had fallen on my back, I got a good look at the perpetrator: Bryan Hirdenson: the school bully. He lowered himself over me, and gave me a good look at his yellowed teeth, pimply face and asymmetrical eyes. His head seemed too small for his large body, and I always remarked it was because his head had to accommodate for the size of his brain. He never understood that though, because he didn't know the definition of "accommodate". Or brain. Probably also size. Point is, he was as dumb as a rock, and then some.

"My favorite punching bag," Bryan said as he was chewing his gum. The two guys behind him, his just-as-stupid lackeys, tittered, looking around for any adults who had seen Bryan.

"Wow, that was a coherent sentence! You're getting better, Bryan!" I told him in a mock-cheerful tone. His face screwed up as he tried to understand the sentence, but he eventually figured out it was a retort.

"You sure you wanna say those smart things, ya nerd?" He asked me with a malicious grin on his face as he brought a fist near my face.

I tried to mimic his voice as I responded, "You sure you wanna punch me, ya idiot?"

Bryan's grin turned sour, and he brought his fist to my face. The back of my head hit the concrete, and a pounding headache began almost immediately. He lowered himself back to my face and asked, "Did that answer your question?"

I touched the corner of my mouth and saw blood on my finger. Bryan picked himself up off of me and turned around to grin triumphantly at his lackeys. I dropped my backpack to the ground as I silently stood up. I was not about to let Bryan "The Idiot" Hirdenson get the final hit in this fight.

Also, I was also still stunned about my dad, and I saw a fight as a good way to vent my confusion. In a fight, there isn't anything to be confused about. It's just punch, punch, kick, kick.

Now, this may not seem like something that a person like me would do. I'm a nerd (still under consideration), I was about to start a D&D campaign, and I have medieval weapons on display in my room!

But remember when I said that I do martial arts? Yeah, there's a reason for that. I've never really been a "cool" kid. I was the one eating glue in kindergarten, or reading a 200-page book in second grade, or about to start playing D&D in high school. And to make it worse, I started hanging out with the nerds. So while I play soccer and do martial arts, that doesn't matter. I'm a nerd in the eyes of everyone.

So while I don't get called to stay after class, I've been in a few fights to protect people I care about. Including me.

I got up from the ground and started running to tackle Bryan. As soon as I wrapped my arms around the giant's torso, I knew I had made a horrible decision. Bryan barely stumbled, although I could tell he was surprised by my brash attack (if you could call it an attack).

But all he did was elbow me in my stomach, and I was off of him, gasping for breath that wasn't there. Bryan slowly walked up to me, and I tried to stand my ground and look intimidating. It was difficult, seeing as he was more than twice my weight and I still couldn't breathe.

At this point, a small crowd had gathered. There were some people yelling out for us to fight, but most were either silent onlookers or recording the fight with their phones. Bryan didn't pay them attention until a soda can flew from the crowd and hit him on the back of the head. He whirled around to find the thrower, and I took advantage of his sudden distraction by kicking him in the torso. He bent over from the impact, though he didn't seem as winded as I was when he had elbowed me.

Behind Bryan, I saw who threw the can. It was my friend, Henry Hilton. He had his trademarked slightly-askew glasses and mug of cola. Or Sprite. Or maybe even coffee. Henry loved anything that kept him caffeinated and jittery. He was on my soccer team, and usually had his semi-long bright-orange hair held back by a band. He gave me a grin before scampering away.

Next to me, Bryan had his hand on the floor, keeping him from falling over. I took a few steps back and prepared for his retaliation when I heard a sharp, high-pitched whistle go off.

That was Dean Forson's whistle. Everyone in the crowd either winced or covered their ear as the dean blew away. Right behind the dean was Officer Julian. My eyes widened as I realized what this meant. _Oh god, I'm gonna be expelled!_ was the only thought running through my head.

As Officer Julian stepped closer, I tried to calm myself. Bryan had started it. I was simply defending myself. There was no way they could expel me for that. That was an ISS at most.

But I could only get more nervous as Officer Julian stepped between me and Bryan. Our school officer was what girls would call "dreamy". He had long, surfer-boy black hair, framing his sharp and masculine face. While he was always covered by his bulky uniform, you could tell he was in excellent shape underneath it.

Then there was Dean Forson. If you called Officer Julian "dreamy", Dean Forson was the complete opposite. He was panting from his climb up the stair, and there were already sweat marks in his armpits. He was pretty overweight with a chubby face, slightly red from his "exertion". The dean's hair was an ugly brown buzzcut, which did not suit him at all.

Officer Julian rushed forward but slowed down when he realized me and Bryan had stopped fighting. He still got between us and stuck his arm out, while his other hand rested on his taser. A bit overkill, if you ask me.

He began to shout over the roar of the crowd, "What do you two kids think your doing-"

"Now, now, now… What's going on… Here?" Dean Forson interrupted, still panting from his arduous trip up the stairs.

Officer Julian sighed slightly at the interruption but decided to answer the dean. "These two kids were fighting, but stopped as soon as I got here."

Bryan, on the other side of the school officer, was glowering at me. I doubt he expected me to hit him back, and now he was stuck in trouble. He definitely deserved it, but Bryan couldn't figure out things like that.

As my short-circuited brain managed to catch up with itself, I muttered, "He hit first."

"What was that, son?" Officer Julian asked me, taking his hand off his taser.

"He hit first," I said again, slightly louder.

Officer Julian looked at me with a small frown, and replied, "We'll talk about it when we get to the dean's office."

"We will?" Dean Forson asked, a bit confusedly. Officer Julian glared at him, and the dean corrected himself, "Oh, yes, we will."

Officer Julian stepped over to Bryan and put a hand on his back, pushing him to go. He looked at me expectantly, and I realized he wanted me to follow. When we got to the stairway, Dean Forson looked worriedly at it, before starting to step down.

As my heart continued speedily beating in my chest, I could only think, _Well, at least it isn't going to get worse than this._

I was completely and totally wrong.

* * *

 **Hello, people! I kind of forgot to put an Author's Note at the end of the last chapter :p. But I didn't this time!**

 **So, this is my first story. Ever. Not just the first one I've posted on FF, but just the first,** _ **ever.**_ **I'd like to think I'm a good author, but I doubt I can start off perfectly, so please, give suggestions.**

 **Also, this may have been a bad idea, but I have basically no plan for where I want this story to go. I mean, it's gonna follow LMOP, but I don't have the other people, and I don't have any place for the story to end. No plan. So this is going to be very subject to what reviewers want. I think it's kinda cool, though. You guys get to be a part of the story!**

 **What I mean by that is if there is support for, say, a relationship, or a specific event, or a character death, I might just do it. I actually think I have someone I'd like Jay to end up with (just the framework of a character), but if you want him to end up with the old grandpa cleric, so be it!**

 **Nah, I'm just kidding. I hope.**

 **And thus, my first AN has ended! Good day/night/afternoon to you all!**

 **-Jay (Get it?)**


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